Misinterpreting the situation
by PinkPunk010
Summary: Modern Turnadette: Shelagh has an old uni friend over. Timothy has lost his bear. Patrick gets jealous. And its all go from there! AU Turnadette pairing with motherdette
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This is a modern AU. A snapshot, if you will, of Doctor Turner and Nurse Shelagh MacDonald. It's pre-romance beginning /the beginning. Timmy is younger, about 8 maybe?**

**Shelagh has an old friend to stay and Timmy left his bear. **

…

"So, how will you be spending your weekend off? Knitting or crochet?" Trixie teased, handing Shelagh a cup of tea and flopping down onto the chair next to her. "Or are you really going to push the boat out and go food shopping?"

Shelagh smiled good naturedly. She and Trixie may have been roughly the same age, but they acted so completely differently. It had been a running joke since Trixie had started working on the ward six years ago.

"I really _am_ pushing the boat out!" Shelagh smiled. "One of my old uni friends is coming to stay, he's on leave from the army and is doing a tour of us boring stay-at-homes. We're going out to dinner and maybe going to a show in the West End."

"I would have been so proud of you if you had finished that with 'going to the pub/club/bar'," Trixie sighed dramatically. "So, tell me _all _about him! Is he good looking? Available?"

"Anyone listening to you, who doesn't know you, would think you were desperate!" Shelagh tutted with a smile before continuing, "Yes, he is _very_ handsome in a tall, blonde, strong, _in uniform_ kind of way. I don't know how he manages it! He is an officer in the army, just been promoted actually. He was my flatmate in first year, studying history and politics. We hit it off instantly. Best of friends."

"Did you date him at any point?" Trixie probed slyly, watching her friends face.

"Oh yes," Shelagh replied instantly "In third year, we were dating for the whole year. Then, at the end, when I was offered a job here and he was selected for a position in the army, we called it all off quite amicably, and said we would remain friends. And we have! He has a wife down in Oxfordshire, she was a friend of ours and I talk to her all the time."

"Isn't that, you know, weird?" Trixie wrinkled her nose a little.

"Oh no," Shelagh chuckled. "We sort of fell into a relationship because we were so close all the time. I preferred him as a friend. She's lovely and she doesn't have a problem with me, so all is well."

"Are you excited then? To have him over?" Trixie asked, sipping her tea.

"Oh yes," Shelagh smiled brightly, "I hardly ever get to see him. I really do miss him when he isn't around. He is just the right amount of sarcasm, and cheek. And of course, there's that edge that only comes with having known someone for as long as we have. He's taking me to that little place, down on the corner, that we read the review of last week? Oh, whats it called…. Oh well, nevermind. I'll let you know what its like. If its good, we should all go there next socialising night! But, anyway – no, he is absolutely lovely. So charming, and such a gentleman! I can't wait to see him!"

"Trixie!" Came a desperate call down the corridor, and Jenny burst into the room. "Oh, Shelagh! Even better! Sister Evangelina wants to know all about Mrs Johnstone and her twins and I can't find her file anywhere! Please, help! Or the old bat will boil me alive and feed me to her cats!"

Shelagh chuckled, putting her tea down and winking at Trixie, who was trying desperately not to laugh. Jenny was one of their newest members and she still hadn't quite learnt how to deal with their opinionated head of ward. "No rest for the wicked!"

"Shelagh," Trixie called after them as they left "If you're the wicked one, then the rest of us are absolutely the devils in disguise!"

"Well, I don't think I'll disagree," Doctor Turner smiled slightly, entering the staff room and heading directly for the lockers. He seemed even more distracted than normal, Trixie noted, his appearance slightly more unkempt and his eyes a bit glazed. "Except that Shelagh is probably more akin to an angel in disguise than a devil."

"That was my point Doctor," Trixie shook her head slightly in amazement. The man was so incredibly clever, and wonderful with keeping the mothers calm and safe, but he was ever so dense sometimes, in cases like this. "Are you working this weekend?"

"What? Oh, no, I booked the weekend off months ago to take Tim away on a mini-holiday, but he's come down with some sort of virus. It's like he's regressed to being five again. He's out in the waiting area with the childminder now, so I really can't stop to chat too long. I hope you have a good weekend Trixie, don't get into too much trouble. Bye!" And with a distracted wave, he was gone, trying to pull a jacket on while packing his rucksack. It was endearing and amusing to watch.

'Well,' thought Trixie, picking up last February's copy of Women's Own, filched from the waiting room in the antenatal clinic, 'That explains why he was acting funny.'

…..

"But daaaadddd," Tim whined, clutching at his blanket, tears in his eyes. "I _need _him!"

"Timothy," Patrick Turner said in exhaustion, closing his eyes and praying for strength. "You told me only the other day that you were a big boy now, and didn't _need_ Rupert anymore."

"Then I _want_ Rupert! I can't go to sleep without him daddy!" Tim cried, before promptly bursting into tears. Patrick hated it when his son was sick. And Tim had a high fever and hadn't stopped being ill when dad came home, like he usually did. He was actually, properly sick. And seeking comfort from a teddy bear that Patrick couldn't find. If he wanted to get any sleep before Tim was sick again, he would need to find that damned bear.

"Well, where did you last have him?" Patrick said patiently.

"When Carrie dropped me off at the hospital. I was playing with him in the waiting room," Tim said tearfully, moving to put his thumb in his mouth.

"Then, I shall call the sister in charge and ask if its been handed in, ok?" Patrick fished his mobile out as his son nodded and rested his head against the arm of the sofa. Julie-Anne was ward sister tonight.

"Hello, Sister Julie-Anne Parker," She answered her desk phone brightly. It always amazed Patrick how positive she could be on a night shift.

"Hey Julie-Anne, it's Patrick, I know you're on a shift, but I don't suppose someone has handed in Timothy's Rupert bear? He's ill."

"Oh, poor dear," She said sympathetically "As a matter of fact, Shelagh found it earlier, and recognised it as Timothy's. She said she would bring it in on her next shift. She didn't want to leave it in Lost Property. Don't tell Tim, but I think she was planning on giving him a bit of a wash too."

"Thank god," He sighed in relief "Do you think she'll mind me just knocking on her door to pick it up? Tim really needs sleep."

"Text her and warn her you're coming, I hope Timothy feels better soon Patrick," Julie-Anne said "Good night."

"Night Julie-Anne, and thank you." Patrick put the phone down, and quickly wrote a text to Shelagh warning her of his arrival. Then he turned to his son. "Right then kid, Shelagh took Rupert home with her so she could look after him until she saw you again. Lets go and get him."

…..

"Shee?" Chris called, peering at the yellow bear on the arm of his friends sofa curiously. "When did you get a tatty Rupert Bear? I haven't seen it before."

"Oh, that's Timothy's," Shelagh said, as if it explained everything. Chris looked a bit confused for a second.

"That's Timothy Turner, the Doctor's boy?" He asked, trying to recall information from all her letters over the years. She nodded. "Is there something you aren't telling me if you have his son's teddy bear. _Here_?"

"For heaven's sake, you're worse than Trixie!" She sighed dramatically "Timothy left it at the hospital today when he came to meet his father. I just took it till I see him next. Now, if you've finished with the Suggestion Squad, I'm going to go and get my pajamas on. Ok? Don't break anything."

"As if I would!"

…..

"Right, come on Tim," Patrick said gently, locking the door behind his son and letting himself into the block of flats without ringing up. They took the lift to Shelagh's floor, and Patrick knocked on the door, hoping she wouldn't be asleep already. It was late, and Shelagh was hardly known for her social excursions.

To his surprise (and horror), the door was opened by a good-looking man, about Shelagh's age with a tanned complexion and blonde-brown hair. The not-known man's eyes widened in surprise, and Timothy stepped behind is father's legs quickly.

"Oh, um, hello," Patrick said, "I was looking for Shelagh?"

"Well, I would assume so," the man said drily, looking Patrick up and down with his cool blue eyes. Patrick was suddenly regretting only throwing a zip up over his tracksuit bottoms and t-shirt. "As this is her flat."

"Well, um, yes … is she there?" He asked hopefully. He wasn't sure if he should introduce himself or something. What was the proper etiquette for situations like this? Although, he wasn't sure if he trusted himself not to floor this man.

"She's just getting ready for bed," the newcomer replied smartly. "Maybe I can help?"

"Oh, yes. You see I, well, I work with her. Doctor Patrick Turner. She picked up my son's teddy bear earlier, and he's ill, so is refusing to sleep without it. I did text her…"

Suddenly, the man's whole demeanour changed. He smiled suddenly, and pushed the door open. "Come on in, I'm assuming that the little fellow hiding from me is said son? Well, Rupert is sat, pride of place, on Shelagh's sofa. I'll bet he's been waiting for you."

Timothy peeked out from behind his father's legs suspiciously. The guy knelt down, and held out his hand. "Hello," he said gently "My names Chris, I'm a friend of Shelagh's."

Timothy debated for a second before hesitantly shaking the offered hand. Patrick didn't know whether to be angry or proud at his son. He wasn't entirely sure what he was feeling full stop.

"Chris?" Her familiar voice floated through the hallway. "Why is there a draught?"

"You've got a visitor," Chris called back, easily standing up and leading the way into the flat. In the dim hallway, decorated in a distinctly _Shelagh_ way, Patrick put a name to his emotion. Jealous. He was jealous of Chris.

"Visitors?" Shelagh asked, appearing in the doorway to the living room, in her dressing gown with bare feet and a mug of tea. Patrick had never seen her looking so domestic. "Oh, hello Patrick, hello Timothy. Is everything ok?"

Without a word, Timothy disentangled his hand from his fathers and scurried over to Shelagh, wrapping his arms around her and pressing his head against her. Absently, Shelagh smoothed his hair gently, while shooting a curious look at his father.

"He's burning up!" she exclaimed, laying a hand against his face. "Patrick, is he ok?"

"Not feeling well Shelagh," Tim said, rather snuffily. "And I lost Rupert."

"Well," she handed her tea over to Chris, and adjusted herself so that she was level with Timothy and he was leaning against her shoulder. "He's been missing you terribly. He's on the sofa, would you like me to get him?"

Timothy shook his head, wrapping his arms around Shelagh's neck. She frowned for a second, before looping her arms round him and standing up, lifting Tim up off the ground and leading the way into the living room. By the time Patrick had followed Chris into the room, Shelagh had Tim lying on the sofa, Rupert wrapped tightly in his arms, and was singing a soft Scottish lullaby to him, while stroking his head gently. If Patrick had had any doubts about his feelings towards the younger, Scottish midwife, he was now entirely certain. He was head over heels in love with this woman. It wasn't lust – because it was seeing her and the way she acted with Timothy that made his heart swell and his features soften.

He stood in silent awe, unable to tear his eyes away as he leant against the doorway. At the end of the song, Shelagh pressed a kiss to his brow and stood up quietly, leaving Timothy and Rupert asleep on the sofa. She indicated for them to leave the room, slipping past Patrick to the kitchen. He caught a waft of estee lauder, cinnamon and some other undefinable feature that was just Shelagh.

"I don't think it was Rupert he wanted," Patrick said softly, watching as Shelagh bowed her head a little and blushed. "Thank you, for everything."

"From what I remember of being his age," Shelagh said quietly, looking up to Patrick. "It was when I was ill, and only when I was really, _desperately_ ill, that I missed my mother the most. Sometimes, its just having soft words and someone to stroke your hair."

"Even if he never knew his mother?" Patrick asked, a furrow marring his forehead.

"Even if he has never known her," Shelagh confirmed. "He's a good lad, and you do remarkably with him."

"I don't think I would have managed the last few weeks without you," Patrick sighed, pouring himself a glass of juice and leaning casually against the counter.

"Patrick," Shelagh said slowly. "You know I love looking after Timothy, but, have you ever thought of hiring a nanny? Someone who can devote all of her time to Timothy's wellbeing and take the pressure off of the cooking and housework too."

"I've had au pairs," He said quietly, "You know that, and you know how well Tim took the last one."

"Then let him decide," Shelagh advised quietly.

"Not sure that would work," Chris interjected, watching in amusement as both Shelagh and Patrick started. They had forgotten he was there. "I think, in his eyes, no one will ever be quite as good as Shee."

"Shelagh is a natural with him," Patrick said to his glass, barely loud enough to hear. Then suddenly, he looked up. "Oh, god, I am so sorry! I've interrupted your evening royally! I am a terrible friend. Thank you for Rupert Shelagh, I'll just go and grab my son and be out of your hair."

"You'll do no such thing!" Shelagh said sharply.

"She's right," Chris agreed. "What if he wakes up, wanting her?"

"Besides, he's just got off to sleep, you can't move him!" She continued.

"But-" Patrick started, but was quickly cut off by Shelagh. He was suddenly reminded of the feisty, no nonsense woman he saw at work every day. God, he loved her.

"No buts, Doctor Turner," She ordered "I've got a put me up if you would rather sleep in the living room _with_ Tim, or a spare room with an actual bed. But either way, you, and your son, are staying here. You can take him home in the morning after I've given him some breakfast and reassured myself that he is okay. Understand?"

"Yes, Sister," He said, a little cheekily. Shelagh coloured a little.

"I'm sorry for ordering you about," She said quietly, a little embarrassed, but firm nevertheless. "But I insist. Chris and I were only going to meet up with a few friends after going to the Tate. I'm sure he won't mind only seeing the exhibition, will you Chris?"

"I'd _rather_ only see the exhibition," Chris muttered. "Look mate, if you know Shee half as well as I do, you know you're better off just doing as she says. Let her be a mother hen. I really, truly and honestly don't mind. Scout's honour."

"Like hell you were a scout!" Shelagh chuckled. "There, it is all decided! Do you want the put up or the bed?"

"Whichever will cause the least amount of trouble," Patrick conceded.

"I'll give you the put me up, then you can be with Timothy if he wakes up," She decided, and left the room.

"I really am sorry to intrude on your weekend plans," Patrick said quietly to Chris. Chris shrugged, and put his mug in the sink.

"And I really do not mind," Chris reassured him. "Besides, Shelagh loves your son, she really does. I think she would rather have you both here, where she can fuss and make sure he is ok. And she will be satisfying a maternal need to make sure your kid is well. Just, go with it mate. You can't fight Shee, its like trying to stop a volcano from erupting. Impossible."

"Yeah," Patrick said, and Chris noticed his face. Yup, he had it bad. "Timothy loves her too. He ran away from an au pair that he hated while I was on a night shift. Managed to get all the way here and stayed the night with Shelagh because she refused to send him back. Au Pair hadn't even noticed he had gone. I've had a bit of trouble with childcare as a result. Shelagh has been helping me out on her days off. I hate asking her, I feel like I'm freeloading, but she insists. The volcano is the right analogy. If she is passionate about something, she'll fight for it. I've worked with her for nearly eight years, when she was fresh from Undergrad training. I know."

"She protects the people she loves," Chris shrugged. "Count yourself lucky that you and your son are on that list."

"No," Patrick disagreed quietly, "Shelagh doesn't just protect her friends, she protects everyone who deserves protecting."

…

The next day, after Patrick had taken Timothy home and Shelagh and Chris had finally made it to the museum café, Chris decided to broach the subject that Shelagh honestly seemed to have missed. Bless, she never did notice when people liked her.

"So, Doctor Turner, he's the one you keep talking about in your letters, right?" He began carefully.

Shelagh narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously over her mug of tea, "You know he is. But I talk about all of my colleagues and friends. Your point Christopher?"

Maybe he wasn't as subtle as he thought he was… Oh well, he was known for being blunt after all.

"He's a bit old isn't he?"

"Doctor Turner isn't old," Shelagh defended instantly, rising to the bait. "His girlfriend gave birth to a son then took off to America when the boy was three years old. Doctor Turner was barely a year into his specialty training. But he managed it, he is a brilliant obstetrician and a fantastic father. Just because he is a decade older than you or I does not make him old! He works long, stressful hours and Timothy can be a handful when he wants to be. I should know. So what if he has a few lines on his face?"

"Don't you feel like he's taking advantage? If you look after his kid for him?"

"Patrick Turner has never asked, demanded, suggested, implied or expected any help from me with his son. I just happen to have a little bit of time spare to help look after the wee lad. He's so sweet, and I really do not regret any time I spend helping Tim with his homework!" Shelagh replied indignantly, her eyes flashing.

Chris nodded at her thoughtfully, then flashed her a disarming smile. Shelagh was disarmed.

"He feels the same was about you, just so you know," he smirked, drinking his tea, and enjoying watching the mix of emotions across his best friends face.

….

Of course she would have a boyfriend. How could someone that kind, that loving, that beautiful not have someone on the scene? Someone who made her heart flutter and her smile a bit wider. Who was he kidding. She worked with him, he was a colleague and a friend. She helped him out so much because she loved Tim, and she was his friend. She was his friend, she would only be his friend. He shouldn't have hoped. He shouldn't have let himself fall quite so hard.

He was a decade older than her. He had a son. He had responsibilities and lived for his work life. She was young, if a slightly old personality, she had options. Her only responsibility was feeding her cat. He should have realised he was falling for her. For her kind heart, her careful hands, her soft voice, her amazing ability to calm an entire room with her entrance. She was a fantastic midwife, and she would make an absolutely amazing mother.

How could she love someone like him, when she had someone like Chris around?

….

"How was your weekend? Was it divine?" Trixie asked, as soon as she saw her friend Monday morning. They were in the staff room, while Dr Turner was sat at the desk, just beside the door. He could hear everything. And while there was a part of him that wanted to just sulk off back to his office, there was an even greater part of him that had to hear the conversation.

"It was very good. You know how I found Timothy's bear on Friday before I left? Well, Timmy has been rather ill this weekend, so Patrick ended up bringing Timmy round to collect the bear. I insisted they stayed the night. Patrick looked exhausted, and worried, and I hoped both of them would be able to get a good night sleep. He ended up sleeping like the dead, right next to his boy. Didn't even notice me pottering about and keeping Tim quiet when he woke up. Poor dear. I popped round yesterday after Chris went home, Timmy looked a bit better and was more himself. He was rather clingy on Friday night. He told me all about how he and Patrick watched the whole series of Doctor Who completely uninterrupted. Oh, bless him."

"Who, _Patrick_ or Timmy?" Trixie teased significantly. In the corridor, Patrick sat up a little straighter, confusion on his face. "I ask you about your weekend with that old friend of yours and you tell me all about spending time with Doctor Turner and his son. Now, Sister, if that doesn't tell you something I'm not sure what will!"

"Oh, hush Trixie," Did she sound embarrassed or was he imagining things? "Did you want to hear about the restaurant?"

"You mean, you actually made it, in and amongst being the doting not-mother to an ill eight year old?"

"Trixie," Shelagh warned. He could just imagine her shooting the younger woman a stern glance. And Trixie knowing she had pushed just a little to hard and looking contrite. "Anyway, we went to the restaurant, and to be perfectly honest, it wasn't that impressive. I think I prefer our usual haunt. We saw Dreamboats and Petticoats on Saturday, again. And he left about 11 on Sunday morning to pop back to his home in Oxfordshire before going up to Carl in York. Caroline was having a wee problem with the baby. He just wanted to make sure she was ok. I can't wait to see the wee one! She's nearly due."

Who was nearly due?

"Is Chris excited about being a daddy?"

"Oh, you should have heard him, he can't wait! Oh, Trixie, you'll never guess! They've asked me to be godmother!" She sounded so excited. "I mean, I know I was best man at the wedding, but I never expected _that_ honour! I can't wait! I've been sewing little things for the wee one since Caroline came and told me she was pregnant!"

"Any why wouldn't Chris and Caroline have asked you?" Trixie teased. Patrick was sat in a daze. From what he heard (and knew of Shelagh) she _wasn't _dating the fellow at her door. She was his friend, only his friend! Maybe he could hope again, maybe she would…

Patrick Turner stood up, not realising that he had a great big megawatt smile on his face, nor noticing the extra spring in his step. But Jenny did, as she passed him on her way into the staff room.

"What's got Doctor Turner grinning like a Cheshire cat?" She commented idly, not noticing Trixie's sharp look at Shelagh, or Shelagh's flushing red.

….

**A/N I wasn't sure where/how to end, but that seems like a good enough place for me. Dr Turner is happy because Shelagh isn't dating anyone, Jenny is being dense, Trixie too sharp and Shelagh is embarrassed. Seems good enough for me! **


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N I can honestly say that I wasn't expecting such a response! I wasn't planning on adding any more chapters to this, I don't really have a continual story arc or anything. But I might be able to cobble some more chapters together! **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Call The Midwife, just the box sets. **

…..

"Auntie Shelagh! Auntie Shelagh!" cried a little pink, yellow and green blur, just as he crashed into the tiny nurses legs, almost toppling her in the process. Automatically, Shelagh's arms wrapped around the young boy, but that didn't stop her from teetering dangerously for a few seconds.

"Hello Timothy," she chuckled, a few seconds later when they had regained their balance. She ruffled his hair as the boy pulled his head back to beam widely at her. "As glad as I am to see you, we could have both been hurt in all the excitement! You need to warn people before barrelling into them!"

"Timothy Turner!" The childminder, Carrie, scolded, puffing to a stop just before the midwife and boy. "What have I told you about running off! What has your dad told you about running off!"

"But I saw Shelagh!" Timothy argued back, his good mood vanishing and a petulant look crossing his face. Carrie looked about ready to blow a gasket. Shelagh nodded to some unspoken plea to help, before kneeling down to Timothy's level.

"Tim dear," she started seriously, holding onto his hands. He looked away from her, he hated it when Shelagh told him off. "Timothy, look at me. Now. Good. You know full well that when you are with Carrie, Carrie is responsible for you. Which means?"

"To do as she says and not to go running off," he muttered, "But-"

"And that includes when you get into the hospital, even if you see me, or your father, or Nurse Trixie or Fred. Because if we can't trust you not to run off while in the hospital, how can we trust you not to run off on Carrie anywhere else? There are lots of dangerous people around Timmy, and the last thing your father or I want is to lose you. Which means?"

"I promise to stay with Carrie at all times unless she gives me permission to run around," he said monotonously.

"And do you mean it?" Shelagh asked, eyebrow raised. Tim looked at her in surprise. His father just tended to accept the sentence, ruffle his hair and tell him not to do it again. Which he would. "Because I know this isn't the first time someone has had to have this conversation with you. We shouldn't have to keep repeating ourselves. You are not a baby any more Tim, we need you to act like a grown up boy, which means not running off. So. Do you mean it this time?"

Tim thought for a second. He really didn't like upsetting Shelagh, she was nice to him, and she made dad smile a bit more. If that meant having to walk with Carrie when they arrived on the ward. Well, "I'll try," He offered, "I really will Aunty Shelagh. I promise I'll try."

"Well, you're just going to have to prove how absolutely wonderful you are, aren't you?" She smiled, bopping his nose before standing up to talk to Carrie. Tim leant into her side, and she automatically started stroking his hair absently. "How has he been today?"

"I am here you know," he muttered, poking Shelagh's side. Shelagh returned the poke, then gripped his fingers before he could try again, all while maintaining a straight face and conversation.

"The usual?" Carrie shrugged, "He ate all his carrots at dinner so he was allowed jelly for pudding. Um, he has three pieces of homework and there's a letter from school in his bag. Jack got one as well, so it's either the two of them have put toadstools in the teachers lunchbox again, or the school play."

"Who's putting toadstools in school lunchboxes?" Trixie asked with a grin as she walked past. "Sounds like an exciting tale you will have to tell me Master Timothy."

Tim grinned. He liked Trixie. Shelagh, however, frowned.

"Timothy was in a lot of trouble over that incident Trixie," She scolded the younger midwife. "I don't want you encouraging him and thinking it's a good idea!"

Trixie nodded solemnly before winking at Timothy. "Handover in five minutes," she reminded Shelagh before sashaying off. How that woman managed to look good in scrubs was beyond Shelagh's comprehension.

"Doctor Turner is in his office," Shelagh told Carrie. Carrie frowned slightly, when she had first seen Shelagh, she had expected her to be taking Tim off her hands. "I'll come with you, I need to get the ward notes from him before he goes anyway." She held her hand out to Tim, who took it eagerly.

In his office, Patrick Turner was sat staring at a picture on his facebook. It was one that one of the other nurses had taken at the end of a shift one day. Shelagh had bought Timothy in to meet his dad from work, and the three of them were going to go to MacDonalds for a treat. In the picture, They were stood, side by side, laughing at some silly antic of a beaming Timothy's. He wished that they really were the happy family people would expect looking at the photograph. He wished she would smile at him like that. Patrick shouldn't envy his son, but he did. Tim got to see Shelagh outside of work, he only got to see her when Tim was around.

A soft, familiar knock of the door interrupted his quiet reflection. He quickly closed the screen down before calling enter, knowing it would be her beautiful face that would be peeking around the door. He wasn't however, expecting his son to slip in front of her and run for a hug. She smiled fondly at the two of them.

"I was wondering if I could have the ward notes for handover," She said quietly, a gentle smile on her face. Carrie had slipped into the room behind Shelagh, and was quietly observing the odd little family. Patrick nodded towards a haphazard pile of files, chuckling when Shelagh tutted her annoyance at their dishevelled state. "I'm going to set you and your son handwriting lessons," she said in a teasing voice, glancing up to roll her eyes at the Doctor. She snapped the files shut sharply and turned to Timothy. "Come and give me a hug then mister," she insisted, holding out her arms. Timothy barely even hesitated before throwing his arms around her waist. "Oh, Patrick, Carrie said he has a letter from the school in his backpack and he has three pieces of homework before he tries to kid you he has any less."

"I don't do that!" Timothy replied indignantly.

Three chuckles reverberated through the room.

"I best be off then," Shelagh said, holding the files up as explanation. "Now, you be good for your father young man! And Patrick, don't forget it's P.E day at school, so he will need his sports kit! Have a good evening you two."

Patrick and Timothy replied in a similar manner, grabbing coats and various bags. Shelagh turned to leave, almost jumping when she saw Carrie there. "Oh, Carrie!" She said in surprise. "I am so sorry, I thought you had already gone home again! I do apologise! Thank you for dropping Tim off, and we both know that Tim will be late to your tomorrow morning if Patrick is dropping him off."

"Hey!" the man in question replied indignantly.

"She is right dad," Tim added quietly.

"I really have got to be going!" Shelagh said, waving goodbye as she stepped out of the office. Carrie turned to watch Doctor Turner critically. He was fussing over his son, but glanced at the door after Shelagh had left. He never seemed to bat an eyelid at the way she organised his life, reminding him gently of little things, mocking him gently. He didn't bat an eyelid at how Tim would lean into her, if given the chance, or that Tim was more likely to listen to Shelagh than anyone else.

Anyone watching the trio, Carrie decided, would come to the conclusion that Shelagh and Patrick were married, and Timothy was their son. There was this ease of companionship between the three. It was such a shame that neither of them could see it. Nor the boy, he was so used to Shelagh just _being there_ that he didn't realise quite how much she was his mum, nor how head over heels his dad was for her.

Hopefully it wouldn't take them too long to work out.

…..

"Evening Shelagh," Julie-Anne smiled as the youngest Ward Sister bustled around the room, creating order in her wake. "It has been a while since we were on shift together! How has everything been?"

"Oh, you know, the usual," Shelagh smiled. "Nothing to write home about at least."

When Shelagh had first started, Julie-Anne had been her mentor. Now, years later, Julie-Anne Parker was the closest thing Shelagh had to a mother. And with three boys and four grandsons, Shelagh was the closest thing Julie-Anne had to a daughter.

"Well, I expect you will be rather busy over the next few weeks anyway," Julie-Anne said, "What with the summer fair coming up."

Shelagh was the ward charity rep. She took an active role in rallying the ward staff and putting on fundraisers with the mothers-to-be. She had fought, viciously the rumour was, for the Summer fair to be in support of the maternity services. In recompense, she was the lead.

"Oh, don't remind me," Shelagh groaned, sinking back into her chair. "So far its been fairly reasonable to organise. But I don't know what I will do if the weather doesn't pull its weight! I've had to turn down time with Timmy to organise this, so it had better not be time wasted!"

Julie-Anne nodded sagely, surveying her fellow Sister as Shelagh began to re-write Doctor Turners notes. She seemed to be the only one on the ward who could translate the squashed spider hieroglyphics.

"Last time I spoke to you," Julie-Anne started carefully, "You seemed to want to talk. I'm sorry I have had to miss church so much recently, but you know how rotas can be. It does mean that I have missed out on three consecutive weeks of tea and chat. Did you want to talk now?"

She watched Shelagh stiffened slightly "Oh, I'm sure it was nothing of importance."

…

Shelagh had literally put her heart and soul into organising the hospital fundraising summer fair. She had gone without sleep, bribed, flattered and downright manipulated what she wanted. The weather, however, she could not account for, and she had fallen into a fitful sleep the night before the fair, mentally going over the back-up, indoor fair plan.

Luckily however, the sun seemed to be on her side, dawning bright and cloudless. Shelagh sighed in relief, before bounding over to her wardrobe to decide what to wear.

….

Patrick frowned at his collection of shirts, ties and jumpers, before tilting his head to the left to see if it made any difference. Nope. It didn't. What was one supposed to wear when taking one's son to a fair organised by the one that one was in love with?

There was nothing else for it really.

"TIMOTHY!" Patrick bellowed.

"WHAT?" His son yelled back.

"COME AND CHOOSE SOMETHING FOR ME TO WEAR!"

…

Everything was going splendidly! Shelagh thought to herself with a little smile. Timothy's cubs group were putting on a performance of Robin Hood in ten minutes, which would then be followed by traditional games like egg and spoons, sack races and the like. She was especially looking forward to laughing as Patrick and Timothy performed in the three-legged race. She felt she could laugh. She had seen them practicing. Disaster wasn't the word for it!

"Shelagh!"

Think of the sun, and so it shall shine! Shelagh thought fondly, turning around to hug Timothy. His father stood, somewhat awkwardly behind.

"My, Doctor Turner," Shelagh teased. "I wasn't aware you owned _denim!"_

Patrick shuffled slightly. Shelagh thought he was looking extremely fine indeed! On a normal weekend/evening, he would wear his comfy corduroys, with his work shirt still on, and usually a cardigan on over the top. Unless they were out, then he wore a blazer. Today however, was quite a transformation! He was wearing a pair of smart denim jeans, a light blue shirt, left open at the collar and turned up to the elbows, with a pair of sunglasses tucked into the breast pocket.

"You look practically summery!" She continued with a laugh.

"I chose it, Aunty Shelagh!" Timothy piped up, ecstatic that Shelagh liked what he had picked out for his dad.

"Did you? Well, I can honestly say that you've done a better job of dressing your dad than your dad does! Well done Timothy. Hang on, aren't you supposed to be over there with Akela? Come on now Tim! Chop chop."

"But I don't want to be Maid Marion," The boy grumbled, kicking a pine cone as he made his way towards the scout group.

Suddenly, both adults wished they had kept the kid with them.

"I was only joking," Shelagh smiled shyly, "You look very nice today."

"So do you," Patrick managed to get his vocal cords working long enough to stammer out. He had been stunned into silence by the pretty 1950's floral dress that Shelagh had on. It accentuated her tiny waist even more than her usual clothes, and the light cardigan and sunhat, just seemed more like her than anything. She had practically shone in the sunlight as she had approached, and flashed a glimpse of a smile stronger than any sunbeam. He had been temporarily blindsided when she had started teasing him. "Um, shall we?"

"After helping him rehearse his lines, and telling him over and over that he has been given the most difficult part in the whole play for the last four weeks?" Shelagh pretended to think about it. Patrick smiled, and offered her his arm. With a light laugh, Shelagh took it, and finished with. "Yes, I think we had better go and watch the boy in a pink dress!"

"He's going to hate me when he realises I have a camera."

"Can we show them at his wedding?"

….

"Doctor Turner!" Someone hissed, appearing at his elbow. It was one of the maternity assistants, who was actually on shift today.

"What?" He hissed back. Shelagh glanced over to him worriedly. She may have started watching the play with Patrick, but had progressed to standing with Trixie and Chummy. It would knock Timothy's confidence if Patrick had to run off now! Seriously, out of all the Obstetricians in the fair, they had to ask the one with a child?

Patrick suddenly turned ashen, glanced once up to the stage before hurrying off behind the assistant.

"I'm going to bally well slap him!" Shelagh muttered, frowning ominously. Trixie looked at her in surprise. It wasn't like Shelagh to threaten violence at all!

Shelagh carried on watching the final few minutes of the performance, clapping heartily at the end, and purchased an ice-cream for when Timothy came dashing off stage.

She looked around for Patrick, cursing her smallness when all she could see was a sea of shoulders and the bright, mocking blue of the sky. If he missed the three-legged race, Timothy would be crushed!

"Shelagh! Shelagh!" Timothy cried, beaming as he raced towards her. She noticed that he didn't even look for his father. And that hurt her. A lot. "How did I do?"

"You did marvellously!" Shelagh replied with a matching smile. "The best Maid Marion I have ever seen!"

"I remembered all my lines!" He beamed, jumping up and down. He practically quivered with excitement when Shelagh handed him his ice cream. Then he had to break it. "Do you think Daddy will be back in time for the three legged race?"

Shelagh felt another little bubble of anger well up, but managed to squash it with a distorted smile.  
"I don't know dear, but I'll be running with you if he doesn't! How about that?"

Tim's cheer let her know how well that was appreciated.

…

Patrick rushed over the road at the lights, back onto the field that the fair was on. It was, conveniently, right next to the hospital. He glanced at his watch, and cursed under his breath. He had missed the start of the race! Timothy was going to be so upset. Maybe he could get Shelagh to try and bring his son around. She was so amazing with him. Timothy listened to her when he wouldn't listen to anyone else.

He sidestepped his way to the finish line of the race, and began cheering loudly when he saw that, once again, Shelagh had stepped up to the mark and proved to him just how absolutely fantastic she was. She and Tim were winning, the smaller difference in their heights making it easier to run. He cheered again, as Tim and Shelagh fell over the finish line, victorious.

Tim instantly sat up and untied his leg, while Shelagh had lost her glasses. Patrick rushed to help her. She had cut her hand on the gravel. Patrick went to check the wound, but was startled when Shelagh snatched her hand away, her eyes glinting in a dangerous way he didn't think he had seen before.

"Why don't you go and see your son?" She hissed.

"Do you want me to check your hand?" He asked lamely, wondering what he had done to upset her so completely.

"No thank you," She said politely, a steely look in her eyes. "It's only a scratch, I don't think it will need amputating."

Then she promptly turned on her heel and walked off towards the parish hall, where there would be a sink and a first aid box.

"We won Shelagh!" Tim cried out in excitement, waving his arms manically. He stopped when he saw his father and not Shelagh standing there. "Dad! Did you see? Shelagh and I won! We wouldn't have won, we were rubbish!"

"I did son," Patrick ruffled his son's hair and grinned down at him. "I also haven't managed to tell you how splendidly you did in Robin Hood! You were quite the spectacular Maid Marion."

"Shelagh's already done all of that," Tim said pointedly. Patrick felt the familiar ball of guilt fill his stomach again. "What did you say to Shelagh to make her go away?"

"She's just gone to wash her hands, after falling over," Patrick said. He wasn't entirely sure what he had said either.

"I'm going to go and play with Jack and Gavin," Timothy told him, already turning away, dismissing his father to go and play. He stopped suddenly. "Oh, I need some money. For the games, and the rides and all that."

Patrick pulled a few pound coins from his pocket, and placed them in his son's outstretched hands.

"thanks dad," Timothy yelled over his shoulder as he ran away.

Patrick tried not to feel too rejected. He glanced over to the parish hall and made a decision. He had to talk to Shelagh. He had to find out what he had done to upset her so much so he could make it better. He wanted to be able to tell her how much she meant to him. But he couldn't do that if she was angry.

**A/N I'll be uploading the 'kitchen scene' and consequences once I have finished it! I hope that this lives up to all the expectations! **


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N I am already going to apologise, because moments after posting chapter 2, **_**On-The-Right-Road**_** reviewed saying how much they were looking forward to the kitchen scene. Because just kissing her hand wouldn't be cause for much OH EM GEEing I have made it quite a bit different…. Sorry **

"Shelagh?"

Shelagh froze, the palm of her hand under the cold water. He was the last person she wanted to talk to at that moment!

"Doctor Turner," She replied smartly, refusing to look at him, because if she did, she wouldn't be able to stop herself from scolding him thoroughly. She looked around for a paper towel to pat her palm dry, reluctantly taking the one that appeared in her vision, looking like a napkin in his huge hands.

"Have I…said something? To upset you that is?" Doctor Turner asked quietly, nervously, like a boy plucking up the courage to ask the girl to the dance. "Only, I feel like you're angry with me…"

"Well, gold start for observation," Shelagh muttered sharply, focussing on her hand and not him.

"Right… please, tell me. I'm a big boy, I can handle it," he joked weakly. When he saw Shelagh's shoulders stiffen, he knew he probably shouldn't have tried. He changed tact. "How can I make things better if I don't know what the problem is?"

"For god's sake Patrick! Shut up!" Shelagh shot at him, whipping round with fire in her eyes. "Would you listen to yourself! You're acting like some sort of wounded child! It shouldn't be me that you are talking to right now! I've already told you what the problem is, but you don't hear for listening!"

"What do you mean?"

"Timothy! Do you know him?" Shelagh snapped. "Why are you here, talking to me, when your son has stopped getting upset when you run off in the middle of his performance?"

"What do you mean?"

"How dense can you be? Timothy is an intelligent young lad, and forgive me, but I think its about time someone told you that _he_ should be your number one, nay, _only_ priority!"

"Hang on a min-"

"Don't you even dare! You know me Patrick, I don't get mad. But that poor wee lad, I feel like he didn't lose one parent, he lost two! Whenever you are around, you're distracted, your mind is on something else. When was the last time you actually went out with Tim? When was the last time he told you about what he and his friends had done at lunch time? When was the last time you were there for the _whole_ performance, be it at cubs or a musical recital?"

"Its my shifts-"

"Fiddlesticks is it your shifts! You know that you could rearrange them! Ask for more double shifts and then have the rest of the week off, but don't keep dumping your son with a childminder after school when you could pick him up. I love looking after Timothy, and I think he likes being around me. But I am not his parent Patrick! You are!"

Patrick winced at the sheer amount of anger emanating from the tiny person in front of him. Her every word successfully struck guilt into his heart. He opened his mouth to respond, but found he couldn't. Because Shelagh was right. He found it easier to be at work, easier to give Tim a routine. His work was known, he knew how to be a Doctor. He was still struggling with being a father. He wanted to be able to tell Shelagh how it was because of her that he was around even as much as he was, that he was trying. That he needed to earn money to give Timothy everything he wanted.

Shelagh took a deep breath and closed her eyes briefly. The look of haunted grief-stricken guilt on Patrick's face had reduced her anger at him slightly. She knew he had good intentions, even if he didn't always manage to execute them right. But since she had started, she had to get him to understand, for Timothy's sake.

"Patrick. My mother died when I was eight years old," Shelagh said quietly. "And I don't think I ever knew my father! He was a spectre. Someone who I saw at Christmas or birthdays or family events, but more of a stranger to me than a father. He never knew what I liked, what I disliked, what my ambitions were. All he cared about, was work. It was how he escaped living a life without my mother. And it broke my heart. When a parent dies - or in Timothy's case, leaves with no intention of returning – you can't expect anything from them. If you only have one parent, you never ever get over the feeling that you're not good enough! That you don't matter. I know that growing up, I tried my best at everything I did, in the hope that my father would notice me. That he would realise that I was there. And that I needed him. But he never did. And I grew up, resenting him because I couldn't love him. Because I didn't _know_ him. And he didn't know me. I will _not_ watch that same disillusionment happen to Timothy. I don't want him to learn to not expect anything from you so you can't let him down. So you can't hurt him. You are his father. He is your son. I know you love him, but running off in the middle of his performance! You could have just told Jane to tell them they would have to wait _half an hour_ because you were _busy_ with _your son._ He should be your number one priority Patrick! And I have obviously been helping you hide away from him! He adores you. All he wants is to make you happy. So you make damn sure that he is the only one you think about. And you put him first!"

"I try to!" Patrick suddenly burst out, matching her anger. "I try my best, but I have to work, so that I can give him the best start in life, so I can pay for whatever he wants to do!"

"That isn't a substitute for being there Patrick!" Shelagh shot back. "You would earn enough doing the _number of hours on your contract_. You don't need to do as much overtime as you do! You seem to think that he is my only priority, that, I'll be available on a weekend because I don't have anything else to do in my life. I never used to feel like you were taking advantage of me. And I still don't, I don't resent a second of the time I spend with Timothy, but I do resent how you make him, and myself by extension, feel! I can't be a substitute for a parent, because I am not his mother! Stop taking advantage of my friendship, and be there for your son!

Patrick would normally consider himself a sensible man, he wasn't swayed by impulses, he thought things through. But the sensible, cautious part of his mind switched off during Shelagh's tirade about how, he was freeloading off her friendship. And suddenly, impulse pushed him forwards, cutting off Shelagh's anger by pressing his lips to hers.

….

"Hello Timothy," Julie-Anne smiled down at the three boys that were walking past, huge candyfloss sticks in their hands and hyperactive eyes. Julie-Anne didn't pity their parents later. "Are you supposed to be eating that?"

"Shelagh didn't say not to?" Timothy shrugged, "And dad didn't either, so I suppose its good."

"Did you ask them?" Julie-Anne said pointedly.

Timothy shrugged again, before he stepped forward and indicated for Julie-Anne to lean forward. "I think Shelagh's mad at daddy," he whispered, eyes wide. "Does that mean she's mad at me as well?"

"What makes you think Shelagh's mad at your dad?" Julie-Anne whispered back, it wasn't like Shelagh to get mad at anyone, let alone one of the Turner boys! She was usually the first to defend them. "And if Shelagh is mad at your dad, had she given any indication that she is mad at you as well?"

Timothy thought for a moment, then shook his head, looking slightly relieved. "I know Shelagh is mad at daddy because after the race, she spoke to him, then she walked off. And she never walks off in the middle of the talk. And she always says to me, that if I feel like I am upset, or angry with someone, I should just walk away and calm down. Do you think she managed to calm down?"

"Well, did your dad go after her?"

Tim nodded thoughtfully, before answering his own question. "Poor daddy."

…

Shelagh suddenly felt her speech being cut off, her oxygen stopped, as Patrick roughly pulled her face towards his own and kissed her. She was paralysed with shock, unable to move to either embrace him, or push him away.

The decision was made for her when Patrick pulled away, and looked at her with dark, hooded eyes.

"Don't you ever say that you aren't good enough again," he said in a broken voice. "You are more amazing than anything else in the world. And I wouldn't blame you if you never, ever wanted to see me again. I'm sorry Shelagh."

Then, as suddenly as he had kissed her, he was gone.

Leaving a slightly shellshocked Shelagh for Julie-Anne to find moments later.

….

Patrick punched a wall. He regretted it the second he through the punch, but he still punch a wall.

"YOWCH" He hissed, shaking his hand. Why had he done that? Why had he literally thrown all caution to the wind, twice, in the space of ten minutes?

He felt like his world was off kilter. He may have just lost the friendship of the one person he trusted and respected more than anyone else in the world. She had bought up valid points about his son. Points he knew, and thought he had made better. He had only felt guilt, not anger, until she began putting herself, and her role in keeping his life bright and shining, into doubt. That had made him angry.

He never wanted her to think that he was trying to get out of looking after Timothy by palming him of on her. It was the opposite! He felt Timothy benefitted, as everyone inevitably did, by being around Shelagh. He adored her, absolutely and completely. He practically worshipped her. Anything Shelagh said was the absolute gospel truth. And he was a bit selfish, in that, when Shelagh looked after Timothy, he could see Shelagh more often outside of work.

But that didn't explain what had possessed him to kiss her.

….

"Do you want to talk about it?" Julie-Anne asked Shelagh gently, passing the sweetened tea over to her friend and sitting down on the chair next to her. Shelagh had barely spoken two sentences in the past five minutes, the first being an acknowledgement of Julie-Anne's presence, the other a choked out "How could he!" before she had fallen into a shocked sort of stasis.

"I told him off," Shelagh said quietly, staring into the middle distance. "We were arguing-"

"But you two never argue!" Julie-Anne said in shock. It had always amazed the rest of the ward how easy going Shelagh was, and how much Doctor Turner would accommodate her opinions in his behaviour.

"Well, we did. Over Timothy. I couldn't bear to watch Timothy stop noticing that his dad isn't there. Not after my childhood." Shelagh didn't need to expand. Julie-Anne knew all. "And then, suddenly. For what felt like no reason… he kissed me. Why, why did he do that?"

"Were you questioning your role in his life?"

Shelagh turned to look at Julie-Anne for the first time, her forehead creased in confusion.

"Then that's why."

….

**A/N Ok, this is incredibly short compared to the previous two chapters, and I have made a HUGE change in Julie-Anne finding Shelagh when she is feeling vulnerable and making her talk about it, but I felt it was necessary, and it was either Julie-Anne or Trixe! Sorry, lots of angst and anger.**

**I have to admit myself astounded! In the hour or so it took me to write this chapter, I had four or five reviews! 0_0 wow! Please don't hate this scene, it is necessary to have them fall out, and I felt a kiss on the hand didn't quite justify that amount of distance between them afterwards. **


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N On a completely unrelated note. I went to see Captain America 2 yesterday, and for ages, I was sat trying to work out where I had seen the Councilwoman before. Then I realised: IT'S SISTER JULIENNE! Day made. **

….

Shelagh was avoiding Patrick, only talking to him when absolutely necessary about patients, never about Timothy.

Patrick was avoiding giving Shelagh any reason to get angry at him, or to make her uncomfortable, and so was also avoiding her.

Timothy was confused as to why Shelagh would drop him off at home, but wouldn't come in for a cup of tea. Or why his dad would take him to Carrie's earlier when normally Shelagh would probably have been around. He didn't like it at all.

Carrie was wishing that the two would kiss and make up already, not enjoying the distantly unhappy look on either of their faces. Or the awkward pauses when she automatically gave one a message to pass onto the other.

The midwives were trying to act as normal, but it felt as if there was an abyss between their two most adored members of the community. None of them were quite sure how to converse with either of them.

…..

"That was awkward!" Jenny said unhappily, slipping into the staff room and shutting the door behind her. "I feel as if mummy and daddy are fighting-"

"And all the kids are suffering?" Trixie finished for her. Jenny nodded, sitting down next to Cynthia and accepting a cake.

"It is awful," Cynthia agreed. "But what can we do? I think locking them in a cupboard is just childish, and we don't know what it is they argued about in the first place. It may be such a big thing that just talking about it won't actually solve anything!"

"I've yet to hear you come up with anything better," Trixie muttered.

"Poor Timothy," Jenny sighed. "If this is the first time any of us have seen Shelagh and Doctor Turner fight, he must hate it! Shelagh's always been there for him."

"I don't think that Shelagh's avoiding Timothy," Trixie sighed, "Just his dad."

"I was sat behind the desk yesterday, with Shelagh?" Cynthia said quietly, as if imparting a great secret. "And Doctor Turner came from the opposite direction. It was awful."

"What happened?" Jenny asked worriedly, "Did they have a row again?"

"No, but you know how, on this ward, there are four certainties?" Cynthia asked "You know, the ones like, Julie-Anne is always willing to hear your problems, that Evie is all bluster and no bother, that Shelagh understands the Doctor like no one else, and that the Doctor will always make time for Shelagh?"

Her two companions nodded, indicating for her to get to the point already.

"She heard him coming before I saw him. I noticed because she suddenly grabbed the file she had just finished and rushed over to the cabinet at the back of the reception area. He heard her scuffle, and looked up at her…. And he just looked so…lost. I think that he doesn't know how to make things better with Shelagh… I don't think any of us can do anything to help them."

"It's awful," Jenny sighed unhappily. "It's almost like there's something wrong with the air and we're all affected."

The other two murmured their agreement.

Outside the door, hand poised to open it, Shelagh's eyes had filled with tears. The last thing she wanted to do was make her colleagues uncomfortable. She wiped her eyes, turned, and walked to the toilets instead.

…

"They're cutting our funds!" Patrick announced, as soon as he entered Julie-Anne's office.

"Hello Patrick," She answered pleasantly, removing her glasses. "Yes. I had heard. Its not wholly unexpected, they seem to think that helping women give birth is an easy job."

"I'm going to try and fight for that pocket of cash to be directed at us, not plastic surgery. There are no stipulations after all, and surgery always have the most money!" Patrick sprawled into the chair opposite Julie-Anne's desk and covered his eyes. "As if things weren't already bad enough…" Julie-Anne heard him mutter unhappily, before he removed his hand and looked up to her. "Look Julie-Anne, we all know how much clout you have around here, everyone from A&E to dermatology, respect and like you. Is there any way that you would be able to come and back me up, and just generally con everyone into agreement?"

Julie-Anne smiled benignly, a plan already forming in her head. "You just try and stop me Patrick!"

Patrick smiled in relief, murmured his thanks, and said that he would forward her the details of the meeting before heaving himself up and leaving.

Julie-Anne sighed, hoping that her half-formed plan would return the spring to Patrick's step, and stop Shelagh looking generally absent.

….

Shelagh knocked gently on Julie-Anne's door, the day before the meeting with the hospital board. It had been an awful few weeks for all parties, and she had taken to scheduling her shifts so that she was on opposite shifts to Patrick in order to avoid him and make it less uncomfortable for her friends.

"Hey Jules," Shelagh forced a bright carefree smile onto her face and entered the office.

"Drop the act She, you know I can see right through it," Was the retort. Shelagh rolled her eyes and sat down. "I was just about to come and find you actually Shelagh. I have a massive favour to ask of you."

"Yes…" Shelagh asked warily, because Julie-Anne looked nervous and like she would rather not be having such a conversation.

"You're the only person who understands the statistics, the hours and the financial struggles of this department," Julie-Anne started. "Evie won't touch it, and I trust you to do the figures if I am away…"

"I know…."

"They're cutting our funding, and only you know exactly how that will affect our already motheaten books…"

"Julie-Anne, just spit it out. I'm imagining ward closure here!"

"Patrick has arranged a meeting with the board of governers about the charity funding that they still haven't decided where to allocate…" Julie-Anne paused and bit her lip slightly. Shelagh knew exactly what was going to come next. "I said I would go as well…But its on Thursday… At two O'clock…"

"Same time as the Dep Heads monthly meeting," Shelagh felt a wave of relief. Julie-Anne was going to ask her to go to the Dep Heads meeting, not the board of governers. "I can go to the Dep Heads for you, it's ok."

She was met with a slightly awkward silence, and Julie-Anne shuffling papers on her desk.

"Julie!" Shelagh pleaded.

"I have to give a presentation on contract hour management," Julie-Anne said quietly. "I'm sorry Shelagh, but I need you to go to the Board meeting."

Shelagh took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She had promised herself that she wouldn't let their argument affect work after all. She could be entirely professional.

"Ok, can I have all of your prep and projections then," Shelagh said in weary resignation. "I'll need to be on absolute top form for Thursday after all."

Julie-Anne smiled at her friend in relief. "I really am sorry," she said quietly, handing Shelagh the file. "You need to meet Doctor Turner at one on Thursday, he wants moral support and respectability on his side, and you and I are the only ones who appear to have influence all over the hospital."

"I know," Shelagh sighed, flicking through the file "Doesn't make having to talk to him any easier…"

"Shelagh," Julie-Anne started hesitantly "Maybe you two should try and talk it out…."

"But where do I start?" Shelagh said unhappily "I don't even know what's wrong! I haven't got a list of things I can take to him to sort it out. I can't list the symptoms and make it better."

"What's wrong," Julie-Anne said softly "Is that he kissed you, and you don't know how to respond."

…..

Patrick looked at his watch worriedly and hurried his pace, briefcase clunking against his leg as he rounded the corner to the lobby he was meant to be meeting Julie-Anne. He skidded to a stop in shock. Waiting for him by the reception desk wasn't Sister Julie-Anne Parker, dressed to the nines in her grey suit, but Shelagh, standing, looking more beautiful than he had ever thought. She was looking down at the light brown coat she was holding in front of her, head bowed with the sun glinting off her russet hair. She had on a new suit – or at least, one he hadn't seen before. It was navy, a pencil skirt that looked fantastic on her. Patrick faltered slightly. Shelagh looked up, and shuffled awkwardly.

"Sorry I'm late," he said quietly. "I lost track of time choosing my tie…"

"I think it's a very…appropriate choice," Shelagh said quickly, before giving him a ghost of her former smile "Maybe you should have asked Timmy to pick one."

"Maybe I should…" He whispered. They stood awkwardly, figeting slightly, for a few seconds.

"Um, shall we?" Shelagh asked, indicating towards the lift. Patrick nodded, gesturing for her to go first.

The following lift might have been the longest two minutes of Patrick's life.

…..

As usual, the board was made up of pretentious, self-important and arrogant men who had never worked a hospital shift in their entire life yet persisted in dictating changes to the way the hospital worked without actually understanding the impact. Shelagh liked people, she was one of those people who genuinely thought well of all people, believing in the greatest capacity for human kindness. Yet even these men were grating on her already fractured nerves.

Patrick, beside her, was getting more and more irate as the gentlemen insisted that they couldn't redirect any more funds to midwifery when they were already stretching the budget so tightly. They would just have to allocate their funds more wisely.

"Forgive me for interrupting," Shelagh said quietly, sitting forward in her seat slightly, more than a little irate but concealing it rather admirably. "But I can't see how you've come to that conclusion," She flicked a page in the file she was holding. "We've retrenched at least five times over the past year, and every time, the restructuring has met with board approval. We currently have five midwives on staff, and three ward sisters. Sister Parker doubles up as the department head on top of her midwifery duties. So, staff wise, we are as stretched to breaking point as we could possibly be. Mothers need the midwifery department. Two have already been closed in the area and this hospital serves the women of the entire west end. Women come to us, they deliver their children and they want to feel safe. And we stop them from being scared. You may not consider it to be a significant department, but I want you to think of this. You were all delivered by midwives, whether it was at home, or in the hospital. We are a crucial department, and we refuse to be forced to provide substandard care to the women of the west end. It doesn't matter if you think that we are a publically unappealing area of medicine, but there is nothing more special than helping to bring a child into the world."

"Do you have children, Miss McDonald?" One of the board members asked her.

"I …" Shelagh faltered slightly. "I don't. But I consider it an honour to help women give birth, and one day, I hope to have a child of my own. And I would want a fully functioning and capable midwifery unit to help me deliver."

Patrick lowered his head to conceal a smirk. Only Shelagh could turn that to her advantage.

…

"Thank you," Shelagh shook the hands of the board members, smiling politely before following Patrick from the room. She waited until they were waiting for the lift again before turning to Patick. "Oh, well done Patrick," She beamed. "You were brilliant! Whether we got the extra funding or not, I can honestly report back to Julie-Anne than you tried your absolute best."

"Thank you," Patrick smiled down at her, feeling a little wistful. "But it wasn't just me, you were more than amazing! Anything I said paled in comparison to what you said in there!"

They stepped into the lift.

They rode in awkward silence for a few seconds, Shelagh intently studying her nails.

"Shelagh-" Patrick started hesitantly.

The lift doors opened onto the maternity ward. Shelagh turned to him quickly, flashing a smile before hurrying out with an awkward little wave, leaving Patrick standing in the lift alone, cursing his own cowardice.

**A/N This has only taken so long because I was having a few issues with the ending. Stick to canon and have her walking off before either of them can confront *whispers dramatically* **_**feelings**_**. Or have some headway made. Took a few days of switching back and forth, but I think I am happy **

**Please don't expect quick updates, my exams are imminent and I haven't actually started revising yet :S **

**R&R?**


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